Tuesday, January 5, 2016

We All Die Daily

She said I love you to me then,
And at that moment I believe
That love is something better than
A place where people can achieve
A second sight as something else
Than constant pretense to deceive
Ourselves and crowds away from these,
the grounds on which we all must grieve.


For grief is everywhere a place
Where people go to hide this thing
In earth, the unconcerned wet grist
In which we all eventually sing
Because it doesn't matter what
We say, elude the earthen sting?
No chance, our corpses yield the shit
That gives our kids a balmy spring.


People long for other halves to
Finish what was never started,
Making whole things never made of
More than millionths from the parted
Source and fountain of the reason
We can stand to be so tarted
With those words we always mean but
Later we should claim them farted.


Me as well as you because I
Know that they were meant for hope and
Change the sulky nature of our
Recent awkward downward slope.
I'm too familiar with the tale:
the funny, fat and glum guy trope.
If the field of play is small or
Dull I’ll be the sympathy dope.
Shame... we all die daily, a little at a time.


...So at that moment I believed
That love is something greater than
The absence of our fears and that
The feeling of this heart has span
Unknown to hearts so tightly wound
As mine - a tinny fickle can
Which gainsays everything I hope,
...I do not feel too like a man.


A man. What sort of moron thinks
That masculinity is laid
From language of oppression so
Get rid of male right to degrade
And hormones mean so little that
A man will turn into a maid?
A broken leg upon which we
All wish to put a mere band aid.


Even if these realer men can
Act with less testosterone and
Ease girls' way to equal rights and
Justice we long to enthrone, what
Space is there for difference, nature?
Adolescence we postpone so
We can then defang its peril,
Mother Nature, we've outgrown you...


Nature has no patience for our
Civilized and right ideals of
Heightened discourse, PC vocab,
Sound and fury, daft appeals to
Better angels of denature.
We think only thoughts genteel and
In the night, a Moloch wakes to
Feed on blood, its essence sealed.
Because we all die daily, a little at a time.


Dear Mother Nature wants us rich
and lush to bear the fruit she gives;
And like a nagging tiger Mom
She smothers life so she outlives
Her progeny, so sad and weak
They had no chance but be captives.
She lies expiring in her bed
And always thinks her brat forgives.


But war with nature is our way
For nature is at war with us
For war is nature, nature war,
And now that we have conquered thus
The Earth, and all upon it wait
So meekly on our whims and fuss
She takes dictation, biding time
Before her final burst of puss.


Nature sleeps and nature wakes, the
Cycle of the birds and trees, the
Moon and sun and who knows what she
Holds in wait these centuries, we
Give ourselves to man and wife and
Bring the kids into disease, and
Mother Nature dictates terms, which
We can only still appease.


Time present, time past, time limits
Will and ardor, love and skill
Taking with no thought to give and
Like a playboy, has his fill then
Flits onto the next delight and
Leaves the table with the bill. While
We decline into a ruin,
Will to Life grows stronger still and
Yet we all die daily, a little at a time.


Eternity comes to us soon
And one with nature we become
Again so that our tibula
Becomes a slug or that our thumb
Becomes a tick or that our tic
Becomes a thumb, lest we turn chum.
But talking of it always makes
The talker seem to us humdrum.  


The future’s clear, the road is paved,
But in the meantime let me say
That if this is what life is like
Then we deserve a better way.
A place, a time, a will to be
Ourselves amongst a true bouquet
Of flowery blessings, cheer and farce
To make us glad... at least less grey….


You need not be gladder still since
If not me, though hardly if, let
Stronger men to show the way, since
Nature does not bow to cant, net
Men who make you happy. I’m fine.
Miracles have happened, yet I’m
Quite whom I will squarely be, and
Cloistered in these walls of jet


Were I hale and happier still I’d
Show how happier you make me and
We’d have world enough and time, a
Life for two good souls to feel our
Timelessness together as a
Pair, two hearts one day ‘come three, then
Four, as nature shapes a family
Then we can rest under our tree
As we die daily, a little at a time.

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